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Page 28. 






LITTLE BO 


A STUDY IN THE NINTH OF JOHN. 


RUSSELL H.** CON WELL, 

Pastor at The Temple (Grace Baptist Church), Philadelphia. 


/ 

(, 

PHILADELPHIA : 

AMERICAN BAPTIST PUBEICATION SOCIETY, 
1420 Chestnut Street. 




N \ 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by the 
AMERICAN BAPTIST PUBLICATION SOCIETY, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


/ 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


I. 

The Babe, 5 

II. 

The Beggar, 14 

III. 

The Dawn, 22 

IV. 

The Poor of Siloam, ^5 

V. 

The Court Room, 46 

VI. 

Triumph, ^4 


3 


^'‘Now let us thank the Eternal Power : convinced 
That Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction^ 
That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour 
Serves but to brighten all our future daysP 


LITTLE BO. 


I. 

THE BABE. 

J ESUS, the coming King, lay wrapped in swaddling clothes in a 
manger at Bethlehem. Little Bo, who was to be one of his 
most powerful vassals, was also a baby in a humble home 
in Jerusalem. Jesus was divine ; little Bo was human. Jesus came 
to suffer spiritual pangs for the sins of the world deeper than any 
human heart had felt ; Bo came to suffer physical disability, the 
sadness of which Jesus only knew by divine sympathy. 

Jesus the Saviour, whose advent the angels celebrated, and 
whose star pierced the distant East, around whose humble manger 
the wise men knelt, and before whom the nations were to pay 
homage, presents a figure so heavenly and so sublime that we ap- 
proach it with feelings of awe and worship. Had we seen him in 
the stable, and understood his nature and purpose, we would not 
venture to take him in our arms, play with his dimpled fingers, or 
kiss his rosy cheek. We are unworthy to approach so near a being 
so pure, the heir to the throne of heaven. 

But we into the home of little Bo without hesitation. There 

5 


6 


LITTLE BO. 


are none of us so poor or ignorant that we may not enter the little 
tenement where he was born without feeling unworthy. His faithful 
parents had set up their humble housekeeping at Jerusalem 
in the stormiest period in its exciting history. The local conflicts 
between the various nationalities represented in the holy city, the con- 
tinuous insurrections against the soldiers of oppressive Rome, the 
heavy taxation, the uncertainties of business, and the unprofitable- 
ness of agriculture, had made the poor of Jerusalem very poor. 

The parents of little Bo were among the poorest of Jerusalem’s 
poor. Yet they were happy in the quiet nest of their home life, with 
a bare shelter from the storms, and sufficient food to maintain them 
in health. No social depression, no lack of luxury, can destroy the 
ambition, nor discolor the hopes of the young who have just taken 
a little home for themselves. The dazzling beauty of love’s early 
morning hides all grosser objects, while he who is happy with little 
is far better off than he who is unhappy with much. 

That which they lacked in their youth they confidently expected 
to get in the after years. They lived as uncounted others have lived, 
in the bright air-castles of the future more than in their actual home. 
They, probably, had kind parents who prayed for their prosperity 
and sympathized with their privations, as well as friends who made 
a gala day at their wedding. These young parents, we may well 
imagine, believed in the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses ; 
read the ancient prophets every day ; made their simple sacrifices in 
the temple at regular intervals ; were religiously obedient unto the 
ilaws which God had laid down for the government of his people. 



He anointed the eyes of the i^lind man 

Page 31. 





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THE BABE. 


•7 


The precepts of Solomon were familiar. The ten commandments 
were written on their hearts, and no home in all Jerusalem contained 
more devoted and consistent worshipers than that in which little 
Bo was born. 

Prayerful, truthful, industrious, charitable, and affectionate, these 
parents bore an unspotted reputation, and seemed certain to pros- 
per if God’s promises to the noble and good were to be literally 
fulfilled. They had few household utensils, but they had strong 
faith. They had few influential friends, but they had the prom- 
ise of God. They had little learning, but they had willing hands. 
They lived in the midst of uncertainty, turmoil, danger, hatred, but 
their faithful trust lifted them above it all. 

But, alas ! how sad is the first chapter in their married life ! As 
when one who climbs the snowy peaks of Everest, and reaches a 
point from which the sublime panorama of the Indies stretches 
away presenting the most interesting and glorious views, suddenly 
feels the mountain shake, the snowdrifts move, hears the ice-cliffs 
crack, and is irresistibly hurled down the precipice he has climbed 
with so much labor, and is buried in the overwhelming snows of the 
descending avalanche, so to this affectionate, hopeful pair came an 
awful, crushing disappointment. 

Sorrow seems infinitely sadder when set in immediate contrast 
with the brightest, dearest experience of life, as death is most ter- 
rible when nearest the marriage altar, an eclipse most impressive in 
the morning, poison most bitter in the cup of friendship, and the 
cavern most dark at midday.. 


8 


LITTLE BO. 


Poor Bo ! The harp was full strung to welcome his appearance. 
The cup was filled to the brim to drink to his health. The turtle 
doves tenderly cooed their farewells as they prepared for the sacri- 
fice, while friends and relatives had carefully arranged to make up 
in congratulations what the festival might lack in luxuries. But, 
alas ! the harp-strings remained forebodingly silent, the cup of 
friendship untasted, and the half-uttered shouts, songs, and congrat- 
ulations died in the throat, or flowed back upon the heart in painful 
throbs. Poor little baby Bo was blind. 

Was there ever a cup so deliciously sweet which so suddenly 
turned to bitterness 1 Mothers have held their offspring for a few 
hours in joy, and have seen their eyes close in sudden death with 
an awful sense of disappointment and heart-breaking grief, but in 
that day, so frightfully superstitious, to have a child born blind was a 
far greater calamity. 

This lovely Jewish girl-mother was stricken with a horror at the 
view of her sightless child such as no rrtodern mother may ever 
know. The dreadful nature of the event cannot be appreciated in 
these days of Christian enlightenment. It was perhaps the most 
dreaded by Jewish parents of all the possible calamities and terrors 
which could come to family life. It was such a fearful curse. It was 
sincerely believed to be a direct expression of the angry Jehovah 
cursing the parents and child for some heinous transgression. 

The rabbis, priests, and judges taught distinctly that the parents 
of a blind child had committed, consciously or unconsciously, some 
awful, unpardonable sin ; that their God thought of them only in 


THE BABE. 


9 


terrible threats ; and the angels hid their faces as they passed their 
dwellings. If their lives had been upright, conscientious, and pure, 
so far as they could see, yet the father and mother of a blind child 
were none the less sure, that by some mistake, oversight, or error, 
they had in some dreadful way offended God beyond hope of recon- 
ciliation. If their characters had been beyond any possibility of 
reproach or criticism, yet their relatives, neighbors, and acquaint- 
ances, were positive beyond discussion that one or both of the 
parents had knowingly committed some one of the terrible crimes 
against which the earthquakes and lightnings of Sinai had declaimed. 

Often the parents so blamed one another, that the strongest 
human love was not able to overcome the feeling on the part of each 
that the other had been guilty of some sin or crime directly inspired 
by Satan. Oh, what an unwelcome stranger little Bo was in this 
cold world, where there is none too much of tenderness or love 
under the best of circumstances. 

I do not know precisely why I call him Bo, or why I should not 
call him Jo ; but Boaz was a favorite name at the time of his birth, 
as it had been before, and the shortened form of it. Bo, seems so 
naturally to spring to my lips. And it will be just as well to give 
him that name and furnish him with an identity, whatever his real 
name may have been. 

Poor Bo ! The child that would have been welcomed as the 
sweetest and richest of the blessings of God, was received as a 
dreadful burden and an abiding curse. The smile on the faces of 
relatives faded, and showers of tears came in its place. The gifts 


10 


LITTLE BO. 


to be presented by acquaintances were hidden away, or sold again 
in the mart. Congratulations became groans. The birthday festi- 
val turned to a thirty years’ funeral. 

But, thank God, the parents’ love for each other was stronger than 
bigoted superstition. Though their hopes of social distinction, or of 
wealth for themselves or their children were crushed ; although they 
dwelt under the blackest shadow of shame and disgrace which could 
come to a Jewish family, yet with an affection that was heroic, with 
a fidelity that was braver than the deeds of the patriotic Maccabees, 
they still loved each other, and wept together as they looked on the 
sightless eyes of their child. 

The slow years would roll on in which poverty might pinch them 
more tightly in their shame, yet in which their disgrace might be 
somewhat mitigated by the appearance of other children, whose 
vision might be clear ; while the father’s ambitionless persistency 
in some humble occupation might possibly secure him a more per- 
manent though more meagre support than came to the change- 
able, ambitious ones in those uncertain times. 

Little Bo grew heavier day by day upon his mother’s breast, in- 
nocently unconscious of the awful weight he has laid upon her heart. 
Soon he creeps about the single room in which that sad mother 
grinds the corn or bakes the bread. A little later, his tottering foot- 
steps give their uncertain patter upon the chamber floor, and his voice 
is heard as at his sightless play he passes the time on the house- 
top. I see him at night when his weary mother has taken him in 
her arms to rock him to sleep. I can hear her trembling voice as 





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THE POOL OF SiLOAM. 
Page 33. 














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THE BABE. 


11 


she sings a sweet Jewish lullaby, or chants so pathetically the psalm, 
“ Why hast thou forsaken me ? ” I can see him nestling closer to her 
breast, as he is startled in his childish dreams by the fall of tears 
upon his face. I see him lying by the flickering lamplight in his 
rude crib, softly sleeping, as though he had brought no care, while 
standing together by his couch, hands clasped together, heads 
bowed, the parents pray in the bitterness of their woe, asking of 
their God night after night before they lie down to their rest, why 
this visitation had come, what was the fearful sin they had commit- 
ted, or what possible atonement could be found which would pacify 
the angry Ruler of the eternal heavens. The question may often have 
been suggested down in their hearts, whether it was possible that the 
child in some former state of spiritual existence had been guilty of 
the crime for which he was now to suffer a lifetime of darkness, or 
whether it was consistent with David’s description of the God of 
mercy and loving kindness that this child should suffer for the sins 
of his parents if they only were guilty ? But their petitions and 
yearnings ascended to the brazen heavens. A deathlike silence 
was their only reply. 

Sometimes, it may be, the father half resolves to curse God and 
die, and if when together, in that irresistible love for each other in 
which they seem to be defying God, they attempt to repeat the 
Twenty-third Psalm, their voices break with the first verse, for they 
have no Shepherd to praise — only an indefinable sense of guilt in 
which they feel like the shepherdless goats, when the water springs 
are dry and the green pastures have changed to a desert. 


12 


LITTLE BO. 


Yet they cling to their child, and he searching of their hearts 
would doubtless show that they love him the better because of their 
great affliction. In spite of their self-condemnation and the fear of 
God’s wrath, they cared for him still more affectionately and rejoiced 
more sincerely in the sound of his voice. 

The real God of love in their heart of hearts asserted his divine 
power, and overcame the humanly conceived God whom they stren- 
uously sought outwardly to worship. 

If the truth were stated, they really loved little Bo beyond all 
their other children. When he was seven years of age, they would 
not have parted with him for all the gold of Ophir, or all the mag- 
nificence of Solomon. Little Bo became more and more a mystery 
to his parents and neighbors as the years went on, and there came 
no providential revelation to show why this curse rested upon that 
particular family. The parents were meek, resigned, and religious, 
although their lives were sombre and silent. And the little blind 
boy himself seems to have followed with loving fidelity the teachings 
of his parents and the worship of his people. 

When he was twelve years of age, he was led to the temple, and 
he may himself have heard the voice of that wonderful Boy discuss- 
ing with the doctors great questions of law. He may have stood 
near that strange Youth through the ceremony of their official recog- 
nition ; and he may have listened to the anxious inquiries of Mary, 
when she returned from her homeward journey to find her son Jesus, 
who had so unaccountably lingered in the temple. 

But the two boys were nothing to each other ; so far as man 


THE BABE. 


13 


could see, they had nothing in common but humanity. They were 
not even acquaintances. One lived in the far-off Nazareth and the 
other in the populous city. One had a keen, bright eye, beneath 
whose look even an apostle would cower and weep ; the other 
dwelt in perpetual darkness, had never seen the face of his patient 
father, nor the hand of his affectionate mother. Nothing was alike 
in their circumstances except the nearly equal dates of their birth. 



II. 


THE BEGGAR. 

T here were Hots in Jerusalem, repeated conflicts between the 
Jewish and Roman soldiery. The desecration of the temple 
and the conflicts of Roman and Jewish law had disturbed all kinds 
of trade, discouraged the employment of labor, and covered the 
hillsides with graves. 

Pilate had come with his picked legion, and quartered it in the 
tower of Antonia, adding a heavy burden to the already overtaxed 
people. Many rich men became poor, while many families sought 
uncertain relief in exile. The grasp of poverty upon the family of 
little Bo grew tighter and tighter, and at last became relentless. 
Hunger was often keenly felt, but his father and mother could not 
move away from Jerusalem. Even if they had an opportunity for 
themselves, they would not be allowed to travel possibly, unless 
they abandoned to starvation their sightless boy. 

He could not look upon the sacred page of the Holy Law, and 
hence, because of the superstitious interpretation of the Pharisees, 
was excluded from the formal and charitable privileges of the poor 
in the Jewish Church. Had there been any occupation in which he 
could engage, few employers could be found, for they feared they 
would become partakers of his hidden sin. 

14 









He went Ills WAY TIIEPvEFOKE. 


Page 35. 








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THE BEGGAR. 


15 


So little Bo became a beggar. As I picture him to myself to-day 
he does not seem to have grown in stature with the passing years 
like the children of his neighbors, who could exercise their bodies 
in labor or play, but remained a half-grown boy, even after he 
became of age. To his mother and father he was only a boy, 
whatever his appearance to others. To them, in his helpless con- 
dition, he was a mere child. Led about by them, fed by them, en- 
tertained by them, dressed by them, and receiving all his information 
concerning earth and heaven from the small talk of his mother, or 
what he heard in the discussion of his father with the poor neighbors 
or visiting relations. 

He appears to me to have been small in stature, pale, thin, and 
bent, rolling his sightless eyes about in a meaningless way, his long 
hair falling upon his shoulders, dressed in the cheapest material, 
with a coarse cord for a belt, barefooted, and carrying a cane ; 
having an acuteness of hearing made doubly so by the continuous 
exercise of one sense to make up for the loss of another, and recog- 
nizing the hands and faces of friends, the street and locality in the 
city, by a marvelously developed power of touch. 

All good men looked on him with pity, and yet approached him 
with dread whenever they learned that he was born blind. There 
was nothing in Jerusalem that the poor afflicted boy could do but 
beg. It would seem as though the hearts of his parents would have 
grown stony through the multiplied misfortunes of life, and that they 
must have felt at times that even the Almighty was unkind, when 
reduced to such extreme poverty that they were obliged to expose 


16 


LITTLE BO. 


both their loved and afflicted boy, and their own curse, to the view 
of the careless and scornful public. 

Yet, I cannot believe that even when this last stroke came, and 
they were compelled for their very existence to set him upon the 
street corner to beg alms from the passers-by, that they completely 
lost their faith in God. I feel sure that the mother still prayed on, 
believing that somehow, by some means beyond the power of human 
beings to /understand, God did intend to bring them joy ; yet she 
trembled lest the curse should be removed by the sudden death of 
their son. 

I often see that mother in my imagination leading her son out of 
the narrow alley in which their home is situated, and tenderly pro- 
tecting him through the crowded streets until she finds him a secure 
place near the corner of the thoroughfares where he will not be 
crushed by the burdened animals, nor run over by the heartless crowd. 
The father is away seeking employment in the vineyards down the 
valley, or in the olive orchards on the hills. The brothers, if he had 
any, are scattered in various occupations to earn a meagre subsist- 
ence ; and, hence, the mother returns to her home, and passes the 
day alone in sad meditation or in tearful prayer. Her hair has 
become almost white, her face prematurely wrinkled, her form bowed, 
and her step unsteady under the combined weight of sorrow and 
labor through many years. 

I see her with head enwrapped after the Eastern manner, has- 
tening often to the corner of the street to make sure by a glance that 
no misfortune had befallen her blind boy. Never is the care of him 


THE BEGGAR. 


17 


absent from her mind save when she is sure he is sleeping at night. 
She must have often stood within hearing when the wicked boys of 
the city would make sport of her son’s misfortune, making him the 
target of their missiles, or the subject of their rude jokes. She must 
have hedrd passing merchants cursing him for his impertinence, as 
he requested a gift, and the Pharisees bitterly discussing the question 
whether he was blind because of his own sin, or because of the vice 
or wickedness of his parents. These things were hard for the boy 
to bear, and added greatly to the pangs of his misfortune ; but how 
much deeper that sword pierced the heart of his mother no person 
can ever realize. 

Day after day he sat at the same corner, extending the same 
thin and trembling hand, and in the same voice piteously asking for 
assistance until he was recognized as part of the locality, a fixture in 
the landscape. In the name of the Father, alms ! alms ! ” 

Yet human life in all grades has its victories as well as its defeats, 
and a certain meed of pleasure is set in contrast with the deepest 
losses. If no one noticed the beggar boy, giving him no word of 
greeting, placing in his open palm no gift through the long, monoto- 
nous day of waiting, life seemed to have lost its cheer, and he was led 
home fatigued; discouraged, and silent. If on some unusual occasion 
some tender-hearted merchant passed, and from his abundance im- 
parted a liberal gift in the name of his God, it was received with 
earnest thanksgiving, both to the giver and to God. The journey 
homeward on such a day was like a triumphal march, and the rest 
of that night was sweetly filled with peaceful dreams. 

B 


18 


LITTLE BO. 


To him the receipt of a piece of real silver was the achievement 
of as great a success as would be the capture of Acre to Alexander 
the Great. The human heart can feel only a limited degree ot joy 
or sorrow, and there are extremes beyond which it can never pass. 
When the cup is full it can receive no more, whether it be filled b}' 
the meagre success of a beggar, or by the mighty victories of an em- 
peror. Different men and women may feel the same thrill of joy 
or exultation, caused by events as widely different as the speaking 
of a kind word, or the gift of a nation’s crown. Neither happiness 
nor sorrow can be measured by social or political position, nor esti- 
mated by the figures of finance. But it is difficult for us blessed 
with sight to conceive how much of satisfaction or of brightness 
could have come into a life like that of little Bo, so cut off from social 
companionship, and so continuously reminded of his awful disgrace. 

The street on which he sat and begged seems to have been one 
of the business thoroughfares of the city of Jerusalem, or it may 
have been the principal highway leading from one of the chief gates 
up to the temple ; for it is certain that the worshipers who came 
from far-off Galilee frequently passed the spot and became familiar 
with his form. Visitors from distant Capernaum, Cana, and Naza- 
reth witnessed his sad plight, whether they assisted him or not, and 
discussed the theological question of his responsibility for sin long 
after they reached their homes. 

His pitiable condition appealed to the hearts of men, and aroused 
within them a sense of loving pity, which seems strangely inconsistent 
with their religious creeds and theories. In their view of the situa- 





A MAX CALLED JeSUS SAID, Go. 


Page 37 





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THE BEGGAR. 


19 


tion, the boy was suffering for some terrible sin of his parents — the 
innocent for the guilty. Their brains assented to a theory which 
their hearts would not accept. If they had believed that it was right 
for him to suffer, they would never have undertaken to relieve his 
needs. If they had been fully persuaded that he was the object 
of a righteous curse, they would have deemed his sufferings just, 
and felt that it was wrong to palliate them. 

The brains and hearts of men are often in opposition to each 
other, but it is usually the brain that is wrong. Wherever the con- 
clusions of the mind are found in opposition to the natural tenden- 
cies of a pure heart, it is always seen that the intellect has formed 
its conclusions upon very meagre or false testimony. 

Their brains said that little Bo was the subject of some just 
anathema ; their hearts said he was a pitiable creature, deserving 
of the tenderest care and a generous support. 

Yet the years passed, and his condition did not change. His 
face was familiar to visitors from all known parts of the world. 
More and more the shame of his parents, and farther and farther his 
sin and sufferings were proclaimed as men came to this great reli- 
gious centre of the world to worship — from Spain, Rome, Macedonia, 
Pontus, Silicia, Assyria, Egypt, Asia Minor, Arabia, and Parthia. 

It would seem as if any careful observer of the links of events 
in the life of this boy would have seen that he was being pressed 
farther and farther, on and on, by one misfortune after another, 
as a most prominent object lesson of the inconsistent creed of the 
Jewish Church. 


20 


LITTLE BO. 


Greek and Barbarian, Jew and Gentile, slave and master, men, 
women, and children, by the thousand, had seen his face and heard 
his piteous appeal, and wondered at the providence of God, and 
inwardly rebelled at the harsh creed which so misrepresented our 
Heavenly Father. But the sentiment had become crystallized in the 
forms of the church and in the legislation of the land until there 
seemed to be but little hope of any reform. 

But the Lord had a great use for little Bo ; the Almighty Father 
had been treating him in the tenderest way. So different are his 
ways from human ways, that what seems to us harshness, was to 
him the sublimest exhibition of divine kindness. 

Many a man, enjoying fully all his success, surrounded by the 
luxuries of wealth, and cultivated in the highest forms of learning, 
inheriting also from his parents social and political positions of 
honor and power, would have been in the end glad to exchange 
with little Bo. For real good is not to be judged by its appear- 
ance. Only the long result of time can make plain what is 
really good. Meanwhile we must trust that all is good to them 
who will have it so. 

God makes no mistakes. He is never unkind. He loves the 
blind man as much as he loves him who can see. He uses the blind 
for his purposes as fully and as kindly as he uses any other of his 
creatures. They are sinners only as all other men are sinners, and 
the instincts God put in the soul of man teach this irresistibly. 

The most learned rabbi whose fringed apparel swept the streets 
of Jerusalem, and the greatest warrior, Greek or Roman, whose 


THE BEGGAR. 


21 


arms have scaled its walls, could not boast of so great usefulness to 
the world, nor of so great effect upon the affairs of civilization, as 
could little Bo, had he possessed the gift of prophecy. He had 
reached, however, the extreme of human degradation, and went 
about in rags, friendless and disgraced ! Poorest of the poor, weak- 
est of the weak, saddest of the sad ! 



III. 


THE DAWN. 

I T is always the darkest just before day. The atmosphere is 
ever the most oppressive just before the rain. It is so also 
with spiritual things. 

Little Bo’s experience was no exception. He went to his 
accustomed corner on that eventful day, with the same dull, dreary 
sensations that had characterized his journeys thither through the 
preceding years. 

Whether any premonitions of coming things visited his heart, 
we cannot tell. Whether a single ray of hope was left in his mother’s 
mind as she left him that morning to return to the dull drudgery 
of her household labors, the angels in heaven only know. Whether 
anything unusual marked the departure of his father on that day to 
his labors, or any especial hope expressed itself in the eye or voice 
of sister or brother, it may not be necessary for us to know. Such 
has sometimes been the case in the history of important events. 
Their star, or their shadow, goes before them. 

Though dark and despairing, my sight I may seal, 

Yet man cannot cover what God would reveal. ” 

But we suppose he seated himself on the pavement under the 
overhanging windows, near the point where the narrow alley enters 
22 











And I AVKNT AND WASHED AND I KE('El^ E^) SKillT. 


Page 38 






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THE DAWN. 


23 


the principal street, with the expectation only of another long, dreary 
day, which should bring him a day’s march nearer the welcome 
grave. His mother, with woman’s intuitively prophetic nature, at 
home thinking constantly of her unfortunate son, must have fre- 
quently paused amid the busy labors of the morning, and petitioned 
high heaven to protect him from the dangers of the street, and pros- 
per his appeal for alms. But no well-defined expectation of a greater 
blessing, which God had been through the years preparing for them, 
could have ever entered her heart. 

It was morning in nature. The sun rose gloriously over the 
mountains of Moab, and gleamed upon pinnacle and tower and 
dome, making the green fields of Olivet rejoice, and imparting life 
to shrub and tree and grain. But it brought no illumination to 
the household life of this afflicted family. Nature had destroyed 
for them her charm ; life had lost its zest, beauty, and interest for 
them. The day of hope seemed to be passed, and their only joy 
was negative and consisted in lack of feeling. Their greatest 
ambition was to be insensible. 

But God had not forgotten them. The great Father had tem- 
pered the winds of Galilee, had driven the fish to deeper waters, had 
adjusted the storm to his purposes, and had suggested to the minds 
of many men and women to do a certain thing or visit a definite 
place, each person and thing in his and its own minor sphere carry- 
ing out the great plan of his Maker, who had set a day in which 
to bless little Bo. 

Little did the sick child at Bethesda who detained the apostles 


24 


LITTLE BO. 


with his cries for comfort, little did the Pharisee who interrupted 
the journey of the pilgrims toward Jerusalem with his philosophical 
discussions concerning God’s sovereignty, and little did the burden* 
bearers at the ford of the Jordan, as they stumbled over unseen 
stones which compelled them to retrace their steps in provoking 
delay, know how the great machinery of the universe had used all 
their accidents and actions to bring together in exact adjustment, at a 
precise time, the event which should bless millions, and especially 
enrich little Bo. 

The men and women who passed the beggar that morning and 
looked with sympathy or scorn upon his uplifted face had but little 
conception of the mighty forces which quietly and with divine exact- 
ness were working out a plan for his redemption from disgrace, 
from blindness, from spiritual death. They would have smiled at 
the suggestion that an Almighty Power would be influenced by the 
prayers of a poor, ignorant woman like his mother, or that he would 
be inclined to change any of his ongoing methods to accommodate a 
poor beggar so friendless as Bo. 

But thou 

Revisit’ St not these eyes, that roll in vain 
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 

So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs, 

Or dim suffusion veiled. 

. . . Thus with the year 

Seasons return, but not to me returns 
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 

Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose. 

Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 


THE DAWN. 


25 


But cloud instead, and ever-during dark 
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
Presented with a blank 

Of nature’s works, to me expunged and razed, ' . 

And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 

But it only required that God should think of him ; that all the 
powers in heaven and earth, in nature animate and inanimate, should 
set themselves at work with cheerful obedience to accomplish the 
wish of that spiritual Power in whom we live and move and have 
our being. 

Christ is coming ! And with his appearance would appear 
great changes. But no human soul could possibly foresee just what 
these changes would be. Yes, Christ was coming ! All nature in 
Galilee, Perea, Jericho, and Judea had hindered or hastened his foot- 
steps until, at the exact moment desired of God, he entered the gate 
of Jerusalem. 

Christ was coming ! Although little Bo could not appreciate it, 
yet his own footsteps had been directed with the same kind preci- 
sion to the corner of the street that morning, and the passing way- 
farers had one after another refused his petitions, in order that at a 
certain exact moment he should hold out his hand and cry with 
unusual fervor for the pittance so many had denied. All the evil of 
wicked men was overruled and used for good, all the deeds of the 
righteous were inspired for a godly end. 

Christ was coming ! And the evening shadows of that long 
day would be brighter to Bo than the gleaming of the morning sun. 


26 


LITTLE BO. 


And the contrast suggested by these words is small, compared with 
the contrast in his condition following the coming of Christ. Upon 
his long night of mourning rejoicing should arise, and upon him 
who had these long years sat in bondage the light should dawn. 

Yes, Christ was coming ! How much that means to-day ; how- 
much it meant then to that blind beggar. To-day all the bitterness 
of keen disgrace ; to-morrow all the pride of innocence and strength. 
To-day the world is in darkness ; to-morrow every tower, palace, field, 
garden, mountain, and cloud will stand out a most lovely panorama 
before his astonished vision. To-day no friends ; to-morrow the whole 
public his admirers. To-day neglected and scorned ; to-morrow the 
object of universal respect and curiosity. To-day his mother’s sighs 
fill the humble home with the ghosts of hopes long since dead ; to- 
morrow angel faces will smile from every shadow with benedictions of 
peace. To-day the mother’s tears are dark as drops of gall ; to-mor- 
row the rainbow will illuminate every glistening one. To-day the 
father’s work is dull, lifeless, and pain-giving ; to morrow any occupa- 
tion will be light, easy, and accompanied with thanksgiving. To-day, 
probably, the brother and sister speak of Bo in low tones, under 
their breath, as though they feared detection ; to-morrow this same 
brother will be an object of pride, and their reference to him will be 
made with exultation as if he had won a victory. To-day the neigh- 
bors shun the threshold which his steps have cursed, and bid their 
children avoid his shadow ; to-morrow they will crowd his home 
with congratulations, and mention with self-satisfaction that they 
have been his acquaintances all his life. 



He AYENT — AND CAME SEEING 
Page 41. 




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THE DAWN. 


27 


Christ is coming ! To-day the church dignitaries in pride and 
bigotry regard themselves as especially favored of God, and thank 
the Almighty that they are not as blind men. They claim for them- 
selves a special sanctity and regard it as a proof of their nearness 
to God that they are not afflicted with sightless eyes. To-morrow 
their theories will seem so inadequate, and their self-satisfaction so 
unfounded, that they will find themselves sinners above all other 
men. Christ is coming ! They of low degree will be exalted ; the 
cast-down will be lifted up ; the weak will be made strong ; the 
poor will be made rich ; the sorrowful will be filled with joy ; the 
innocent will be honored and the guilty punished ; devils will flee ; 
angels will come in. 

All the morning the hastening crowd have been passing the poor 
blind boy. Sometimes the heavy tramp of laden animals was on the 
pavement ; at other times the patter of childish feet ; at others still, 
the irregular clatter of the water-carrier’s sandals, with shorter or 
longer intervals between the cursing of the drivers, the laughter 
of the children, the cheerful greetings of acquaintances. 

i\gain and again he stretched out his hand as some person 
seemed to be passing near, repeating the much-worn cry : “ Help 
thy brother, in the name of God.” All the languages of the known 
world were represented by the people who passed, and all degrees 
of cultivation and feeling were expressed in the modulation of their 
voices. 

He had become so accustomed to the place and the great vari- 
ety of sounds that he could detect the nationalities of the speakers, 


28 


LITTLE BO. 


their business, and often their success, in the short interval which 
they required to pass the alley in which he sat. Soon he heard the 
peculiar accents of Galilee, as there drew near to his corner a com- 
pany of men, whose heavy footfalls showed him they were men of 
middle age, of vigorous physical life, firm in their moral convictions, 
independent in all their ways. How much there is in a footfall to a 
blind man ! They who enjoy their sight can never appreciate how 
much expression there is in the tone of the voice, in the dialect, in 
the use of words, and in the footfall. Only he who sits in darkness 
can accurately understand that. 

He heard the Galileans coming, and expected from their gener- 
ous race his usual liberal gift ; but they were deeply interested in 
the discussion of some religious question, which led him to fear 
they would not give him a passing notice. Still arguing almost an- 
grily some ceremonial matter in which he did not dream he could 
have any personal interest, they reached his corner. They are 
passing him. He reaches out and calls : “ Help thy brother, in the 
name of God.” But they pass by. The hope of a gift from them is 
gone. They are evidently Rabbis and Pharisees, more interested in 
the discussion of abstruse questions than in the practical assist- 
ance of their fellow-men. 

But to little Bo’s surprise, the small procession mysteriously 
stops at the other corner. He hears one, with a strong voice and 
very quick utterance, calling attention to his blindness. He can 
hear the moving of feet as the interested company turns about, and 
intuitively feels that a score of eyes are turned directly upon his 


THE DAWN. 


29 


upraised face. He does not understand what the unusual move- 
ment means, and is convinced that it has no charitable object. Then 
he hears the same strong voice, in marked Galilean accent, asking 
in a. tone surcharged with irony : “Master, who did sin, this man or 
his parents, that he was born blind ? 

That is a question of vital importance to the blind boy. Quickly 
comes the answer. But how different the voice of the speaker. 
How full of tenderness, and yet how decided ! The expression of 
this voice was sweet as the sound of distant bells, yet clear and im- 
perative as the call of a trumpet. There was a tenderness about 
it that made the beggar s heart thrill, and awoke within him the 
deepest emotions of affectionate regard. 

“ Neither has this man sinned, nor his parents, that he was born 
blind, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him.’' 
The answer was uttered in such a tone as to preclude any reply, 
and place the assertion beyond discussion. This man was not 
born blind because of any sin of his own, nor because of any sin of 
his parents. He was born blind because in that condition he could 
best serve the Lord in promoting the welfare of man and heightening 
the glory of heaven. 

Oh, what an assurance was that to little Bo. What inexpress- 
ible comfort to his poor heart. No such sympathy had he ever 
heard expressed before. Indeed, the Comforter had come. The 
stranger had uttered just what he had felt throughout his life ; had 
boldly uttered a truth which his own conscience and experience 
most completely approved. Not that he was sinless himself, but 


80 


LITTLE BO. 


that this great affliction had been permitted of God to work out 
some great good which could not otherwise have been accom- 
plished. He feels contented now to be blind, now that the rea- 
soner had filled his heart with the hope that what he suffers may be 
for the best service of his God ; that even his life may be as useful 
after all in the hands of God as the lives of the great and wealthy. 
Life’s hope swiftly returns the bitter waters that have been sweet- 
ened. He thinks he will be content even in his beggary, and even 
v/ith disgrace, since there is at last one whose tones show him to be 
so compassionate and pure, who believes in his innocence. 

There stand Jesus and his apostles about the corner of that street 
You and I could see them with our priceless eyesight, but Bo sat in 
darkness wondering. 

We can see the excitable but stalwart form of Peter as he points 
to the blind boy on the pavement, and presents to Jesus the creed 
of the Jewish Church concerning the curse of blindness, and asks if 
such things can be so. Jesus’ own beauty of feature, grace of 
movement purity of thought, kindness of heart, and compassion to 
the poor, as the Son of God, seemed so inconsistent with the inter- 
pretations of the Pharisees, that impulsive Peter, without waiting to 
consider his words, almost triumphantly accuses his God of incon- 
sistency. Who did sin ? 

Poor Bo reasonably expects a theological quarrel in which he 
will be neglected and forgotten, and fears because of sad experience 
that these religious devotees will go on in their theological discus- 
sions only to be enemies of each other and oblivious of him. But 









' - -<•----' * 1 ^ ■*> 






Some said, This is he, 

Page 43. 





THE DAWN. 


31 


he detects a quick movement of soft footsteps. The man of tender 
tones draws near to him ; and his confident action convinces even 
the blind man that he Is a master workman In whatever he Is about 
to undertake. There is no tremor of indecision, no haste, but the 
gliding movement of one who understands fully his situation. His 
demeanor seems to say in language stronger than words, this Is no 
time to discuss technical questions of the law. I have no spare mo- 
ments for argument upon your criticism of the church, or of its in- 
terpretation of God’s word. While in the same decisive tones, so 
full of divine spirit of kindness, he says : ‘‘ I must work while it is 
day, for the night cometh when no man can work.” The works of 
God shall now be made manifest in the blind boy. 

We can see Jesus hastily removing his cloak. We can see him 
pass it quickly to the beloved disciple John. We can see him as 
the little knots of Galileans gather around with curious expression, 
as he places his hand upon Bo’s head. He strokes back his long 
hair. He bids him open wide his eyes. 

Poor Bo ! Be patient now, for this is the last and severest test 
of your faith, the last pang of a long travail of years of grief! 
What, could not the Son of God relieve this poor beggar without 
additional pain ? It would seem that other suffering was necessary, 
or It would not have followed, for God afflicts none willingly, and 
would not that any should perish, but rather that all should come 
unto him and live. 

Curiosity changes into astonishment as the disciples see their 
divine Master spit into the dust of the street, and take it up as thus 


32 


LITTLE BO. 


moistened, and press it into each of the open eyes of the blind man. 
The acute pain which followed that application must have caused 
the poor boy to cry out and add his screams to the expressions of 
angry astonishment on the part of those who looked wonderingly on. 
Sand and dust in the eyes of the blind ! Of what medical use could 
such a prescription be ! Ah, when the science of medicine shall have 
reached its triumphant victory, and wise men shall understand this 
complicated machine of the body, so wonderfully and fearfully made, 
it will be found that there is an element in the relation of the mind 
and body which has not been fathomed yet. When the purpose of 
medicine shall be complete, doctors will find that the science of 
chemistry is only one- half of a physician’s accomplishments ; for 
man is dual, mind and body, and all diseases affect both. 

It was necessary, in accordance with natural law, for the re- 
covery of this boy’s sight, that he should have faith in his physi- 
cian. He could not see. It was necessary that he should be cer- 
tain that something was being done for his relief. Faith must be 
awakened, or even Christ cannot save. Many patients need to 
clearly feel the burning of a prescription, or distinctly realize the 
strength of medicine, or they will not believe it to be efficacious. Such 
is peculiarly the failing of the blind. 

The moistened dust from the street did not in itself contain, so 
far as we can know, any medicinal power ; but the pain which it 
caused in connection with the most sensitive nerves of the human 
body, aroused in the heart of the blind boy a clear sense of feeling, 
the conviction that something powerful was being done for his eyes. 


THE DAWN. 


33 


In proportion to his lack of faith did the sand burn and smart upon 
his eyeballs, until an over-mastering desire to wash his eyes free 
from the obstructions led him to cry out for water. 

That the person who was administering to him evidently in- 
tended to bring sight to his eyes became clear to the boy, and a 
full conviction that the physician was able to accomplish the task, 
took possession of his mind. His faith was complete. 

All the violent changes from darkness to light, from disgrace to 
admiration, from hatred to love, when Christ first appears to the 
soul, are always accompanied with pain ; but all this is evidence that 
Christ has come, and come to establish a necessary faith for sal- 
vation. 

Poor Bo moans in pain. He rocks to and fro. He presses his 
palms to his sightless eyes and seems to be utterly wretched. He 
seemed the object of most cruel treatment, and the wonder of those 
who witnessed it. But the Saviour takes his hand, lifts him quickly 
to his feet, places his old cane in his hands, and bidding the disci- 
ples stand back from the narrow street, commands Bo, in tones of 
unmistakable authority, ‘‘ Go, wash in the pool of Siloam.” 

The wretched boy thought not of disobedience to the command, 
never questioned the right of his seeming tormentor to do as he 
had done. Excited, he seizes the staff with trembling hand, and 
takes a few steps down the street. Can he not have some friend 
to show him through the narrow streets and crowded marts, and 
through the over-filled gateway ? Could he not wait for his mother, 
who would soon come in her usual round to bring him his humble 


34 


LITTLE BO. 


dinner ; or was there not some fountain near by where he could 
more quickly wash from his eyes the painful atoms ? No ! The 
distant pool of Siloam in the valley, difficult and dangerous of access, 
was the unmodified command. There is something for you to do 
in your restoration. Faith without works is dead. You believe you 
are to be restored. You have received the divine prescription. 
Work out your salvation with fear and trembling. “ Go, wash in 
the pool of Siloam.” 




They brought to the Pharisees him that was blind 

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IV. 


TO THE POOL OF SILOAM. 


IFE is measured not by days and years, but by experience. 



“He lives most who thinks most.” And he lives longest who 
passes through the greatest number of important events. 

To the idlers in the gate of Jerusalem any hour of that day would 
have passed uncounted and unmeasured ; to the busy merchant or 
the gossiper on the housetop, the hour seemed very short ; but to 
little Bo that short space of time which followed his remarkable 
interview with Jesus, when he picked his difficult way out of the 
city, was undoubtedly the longest hour of all his life. Impelled by 
a double influence, seeking relief from pain, and elated with hope 
of a boon which cannot be compared with riches, he hastened toward 
the gate. 

Oh, if any one of us were to have a proposition seriously pre- 
sented to purchase our eyesight, compelling us to place an esti- 
mate upon the proper equivalent for the loss of our eyes, our 
meditation then would give us a better appreciation of their value. 

It requires no unusual imagination to see the bent form, with 
short and nervous steps, holding the staff in advance with a trem- 
bling hand, hurrying along the narrow and crowded street which 
led to the Sheep gate. Often he is suddenly obstructed by a has- 


36 


LITTLE BO. 


tening pedestrian ; often he is obliged to wait through long and 
painful minutes for the passage of a loaded camel ; often he gets 
confused, and calls out as he hears approaching footsteps : “ Hear ! 
hear ! I am blind ! show me the way to the gate.’' Curious people 
who had often noticed him as he sat and begged, filled with surprise 
at his anxious movement, would ask him, “ Whither are you hasten- 
ing ? What has happened ? ” 

“To the pool of Siloam, to the pool of Siloam ; for the love of 
God, hinder me not ! ” 

Perhaps in his inconsiderate haste and wild demeanor he 
aroused the superstitious fears of many travelers, who touched their 
foreheads and looked after him, as much as to say, “ He is not only 
blind, but possessed of a demon.” But those smarting eyes, that 
profound hope, made him regardless of danger in any shape. His 
heart was intent upon one thing only — the waters of Siloam. 

If any official stopped him at the gate in his singular course, and 
asked him why he sought so eagerly the path to Siloam, he would 
only answer : “ He told me ‘ Go wash in the pool of Siloam.’ ” If 
they asked him who it was that gave him such commands, his con- 
fusion was complete, for he had trusted to the sound of a voice, and 
to the strange but silent influence of the man who had spoken as one 
having authority. “ I know not who he is, I know not where he is, 
but I do know that he bade me wash in the pool of Siloam, and I 
expect there to receive my sight.” 

Once outside the gate, in the air of the fresh and open fields, his 
pathway was still more difficult, for the way led down the rocky de- 


TO THE POOL OF SILOAM. 


37 


clivities in zigzag courses into the deep valley below the embattle- 
ments of the southeastern wall. 

We see him rapping with his cane against the rocks, pushing the 
end of that staff into the pathway, taking venturesome leaps to save 
a long detour. He often slips upon the shelving rocks, and some- 
times meets with heavy falls. Soon his preternatural sense ol 
hearing brings him the sound of softly rippling water. 

Laughing rivulets, gleaming fountains, quiet rivers, and rolling 
ocean have often received the encomiums of the wise and the good ; 
but no sound of water in all the realm of nature could possibly 
bring to a person a more important or more delightful message than 
the . voice of the fountain which flowed into the pool of Siloam 
brought that day to little Bo. 

In the ancient days, when methods of hydraulic engineering, now 
lost to the science, could tunnel the mighty ledge of rock on 
which Jerusalem stood, and bring far distant fountains by secret 
passages into the pools of the city, the aqueduct which led to this 
marvelous pool was made, and none knew for what God would 
use it. 

The peasants, laboring in the terraced gardens, the crowd of 
water-carriers, obstructing the space descending into the pool, were 
doubtless startled at the apparition-like appearance of the excited 
blind boy. They may have attempted to stop him, or may, in fear, 
have suddenly given him passage-way ; but it must have been an 
astonishing sight to them. To him it was an experience too ex- 
citing to remember. Overwhelmed with one idea, like a soldier 


38 


LITTLE BO. 


excitedly joining in the awful charge of battle, or like a racer which, 
as it nears the goal, ventures all its strength and life upon the last 
home-stretch, so he must have rushed toward the sound of the sing- 
ing waters with an impetuosity that nothing was able to resist. 

Perhaps he went not in the usual manner into the pool, but when 
he reached the last one of the flight of steps in the wall enclosing the 
deep waters, he leaped, with his staff still in his hand, into the silent 
depths. He had trusted Christ and ventured his all in obedience 
to the divine command. He who ventures all, there finds all. He 
who ventures little, may lose all. 

I see the boy rising from the pool, as hastily the people gather 
around, horror-stricken at what they supposed to be a suicide. I 
see the retreating ripples of the disturbed waters as he excitedly beats 
about him, fighting now a battle with death itself. I see him as he 
reaches upward to take the hands stretched out to save him. I see 
him rudely drawn from the waters and laid upon the ground. I see 
him rub his eyes, lift the eyelashes, and hear his excited shouts : “ I 
can see ! I can see ! ” 

Plied with a thousand questions, eagerly examined by curious 
bystanders, strenuously denying that he had any intention of com- 
mitting suicide, he exclaims : “I am blind Bo, the beggar ; but now 
I can see ! I can see ! ” 

Hail, holy light ! offspring of heaven’s firstborn ! 

Or of the Eternal co-eternal beam, 

May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light. 

And never but in unapproached light 



They called the parents of him 
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TO THE POOL OF SILOAM. 


39 


Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 

Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 

Or hear’ St thou rather pure ethereal stream. 

Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the sun. 

Before the Heavens thou wert ; and at the voice 
Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 
The rising world of waters dark and deep. 

Won from the void and formless infinite.” 

Yet he knew not then how to use his sight ; knew not how to 
interpret the strange impressions. All things seemed to be re- 
versed to his eyesight as compared with the impressions they had 
made upon his sense of touch. 

The excited crowd gathered about him, every one eager to 
assist him, all trying by every variety of expression to teach him 
the use of his suddenly attained eyesight. But he demands his 
cane again ; he feels the path and touches the rock. He touches 
the faces of men with his fingers ; he sits down and rises up 
in strange bewilderment, finding himself as one who had dropped 
from another sphere into this ready-made, wonderful, and beautiful 
world. To see the mountains, the valleys, the fields, and 
trees, and sky, and clouds, and sun, and walls, and forms 
of men, and faces of friends for the first time was like a pain- 
fully happy dream. “ He went and washed, and came seeing.’' He 
went down friendless and alone, for he was blind and poor ; he 
returned accompanied by an excited retinue, for he can see, and 
evidently had powerful friends. 

But his chief thought is of home. It is with great impatience that 


40 


LITTLE BO. 


he delays to answer the eager questions of those who met him as he 
was returning, because of his great anxiety to tell his good fortune 
to his mother, and lift the burden of years from her heart by telling 
her that the horrid curse is removed. 

Transfer yourself now to that little home in that dark alley, 
where all through the afternoon of that day the mother has been 
engaged alone in the rude housework of that age, preparing a 
simple meal for her blind son, and arranging for the supper to 
which her tired husband would come at sunset. Some have thought 
that it was the usual custom of a mother or sister to carry a luncheon 
to her invalid relative who begged upon the highways, and that 
his mother must have taken such a package to little Bo that day ; 
and that she must have been greatly surprised and disheartened at 
his unusual absence from his place. But it is almost unreasonable 
to suppose that she harbored that day all the gloomy feelings of 
the days past, or that even his unaccountable departure from his 
usual seat filled her with dismay. For there is in the heart of 
womanhood, as I have said, especially developed in motherhood, 
an intuitive monition, which, like a prophet’s voice, gives silent but 
impressive warning of the approach of calamity, or of great joy, to 
one so near as its own offspring. 

We have often wished that we had that mother’s account of her 
own experience and feelings that day, as she went through the ordi- 
nary routine of her duties, still pondering upon the strange providence 
of God, and still questioning why they had been so grievously af- 
flicted with a blind son. The hopes and ambitions of youthful days 


TO THE POOL OF SILOAM. 


41 


had largely departed. The end of life was drawing nearer, and she 
had become more and more conscious of the shortness of earth’s 
journey, and how small a matter were earth’s small trials compared 
with the eternities of God. I should like to hear her story describing 
how she felt that same afternoon when the neighbors passed and 
repassed her door without recognition, and as she was reminded 
again and again of the fact that her life was under a ban, and there 
were none so poor as to do her reverence. Yet, for some unseen 
reason her tears were less copious, and her sighs less deep, notwith- 
standing there appeared to be no outward change. 

But now, there was a sudden noise in the street : The sound of has- 
tening feet and a babel of mingled and excited voices, with a rush as 
of an excited mob. The startled mother turns from her work 
toward the door. They have reached the corner now. The shout- 
ings and cries increase. They rush like an angry flood down the 
alley ; amid the many voices that mother recognizes the voice of her 
son. Quickly she steps to the door, to be met at the very threshold by 
little Bo, who frightens her by the suddenness of his leap and the reck- 
less way in which he throws his arms around her neck, and the nature 
of his excited tones, as he actually screams : “ Mother, I can see ! I 
can see ! My eyes are open ! Oh, mother, mother ! he said that 
neither I had sinned nor my parents. He who told me to wash in 
the pool of Siloam declared that I had been born blind for some 
good purpose of God. And he has opened my eyes. I can see ! 
I can see!’" Yet the tears disturbed his vision, and as his mother 
pushed hini from her at arms’ length a moment to gaze into his 


42 


LITTLE BO. 


eyes, he then, for the first time in his life, really saw his mother’s 
face. 

Warriors have won great victories and rejoiced unspeakably ; 
travelers have visited distant countries and returned with safety and 
joy ; men have sought year after year for great riches and at last 
have returned with their reward ; ambitious statesmen have labored 
night and day for some famous position and finally have received the 
certificate of their election ; women have seen in life a great work 
fully accomplished and have rejoiced in mighty achievements of 
good ; but never in the history of men and women’s toils and 
victories could there be a satisfaction so great, so deep, and a joy 
so sweet as that which filled to overflowing that mother’s heart. She 
would have given her own sight at any time if such a sacrifice would 
have enabled her son to see ; yes, even her life would have been 
surrendered as a thing of but small moment if her son and family 
could have been relieved from their disgrace. But here it is, 
coming to her as a free gift, coming at the time of all others when 
least expected ; coming in a way no priest nor Pharisee could pos- 
sibly have foreseen. She cannot believe. She looks again and 
again into the clear pupils, and doubts her own vision. She asks 
him over and over again to give an account of his recovery, and 
wonders if she is not dreaming. She puts her hands upon his head. 
She embraces him again and again, that she may have the testimony 
of touch to confirm the evidence of her own sight and hearing. 

How changed is his countenance now that the windows of the 
soul are open ! Unconscious of the excited crowd of neighbors who 



And they cast 


HIM OUT. 


Page 52 




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TO THE POOL OF SILOAM. 


43 


press into the alley and press to the threshold, excitedly calling 
for explanations, mother and son, only conscious of each other’s 
love, stand many minutes unheeding, and weeping upon each 
other s neck. 

“ Send some one to tell father ! ” is the next thought which comes 
to interrupt their thrill of joy. There are ready volunteers to carry 
such a message, and swiftly they hasten to the father in the fields, to 
tell him what he will not believe, and in which he will only have 
sufficient confidence to understand that something strange has hap- 
pened, and hurry homeward. 

I see him also as he embraces his son, weeping meanwhile. 
I see him as, with bowed head and reverent tone, he offers up 
thanksgiving to the Almighty. Oh, lovely home ! oh, precious love ! 
oh, rich gift of God ! Christ has come though they know him not. 

But the unmanageable crowd at the doorway will not longer 
restrain their great curiosity and excitement. With loud shouts and 
cries, they demand the privilege of seeing little Bo. And when at 
last he presents himself at the narrow doorway, and looks out upon 
them with tears still streaming down his face, his changed appear- 
ance leads to excited discussion, and these hasty Eastern people 
begin a heated argument as to his identity. Some shout, “ It is not 
little Bo, although he looks somewhat like him.” Others say, ‘‘ It is 
he,” while some of the more conservative approach the door and ask of 
the father : “ Is this not he who sat and begged ? ” Before father 
or mother or friend can reply, little Bo, realizing fully that it is an ac- 
knowledgment of the past darkness, shame, and poverty, yet deter- 


44 


LITTLE BO. 


mined, in the present blessing of God, to be truthful and brave, 
declares in loud tones, in the presence of all, “I am he.” 

Then a shout comes up from the throats of hundreds of people, 
‘Tf you are he, how did you receive your sight? How were thine 
eyes opened ? ” I see him standing on tip-toe on the threshold, 
with his hand resting against the posts, excitedly explaining to the 
eager audience in the street the method of his restoration. He 
who is called Jesus made clay of the dust of the street, pressed it 
into my eyes, and bade me go wash in the pool of Siloam ; and I 
went and washed, and received my sight.” 

His experience as he wandered in pain and darkness to the pool 
of Siloam, his rejoicings, his difficulties, the strange scenes connected 
with his anxious journey homeward, he told to friends and enemies 
alike. Then the shout goes up from the great mass of humanity, 
‘■‘Where is he? where is he? He must be divine. A man who re- 
stores sight to one who was born blind, and thus assumes an authority 
of removing disgrace and sin, thus by action forgiving trespasses 
against God, must be a divine being. Where is he ? Show us 
the man, that we may do him reverence. Show us the man that 
he may heal us of our diseases. Show us the man that he may 
teach us the way to God ! ” To all of which little Bo was compelled 
to reply: “I do not know where he is. Of course, I have never 
seen his form. I have only heard his voice and his footfall. If 
either were to draw near I should certainly recognize it.” 

Hour after hour passed. The sun sets, and the evening draws 
on, and still excited multitudes come and go to see with their own 


TO THE POOL OF SILOAM. 


45 


eyes the subject of such a wonderful miracle. Perhaps little Bo has 
sufficient intuition of the ways of God to see already in the circum- 
stances which have followed his restoration, that God was using him 
for his great purposes, and that his blindness has already been of 
untold use. 

While he could not realize the army of many millions of 
Christians who would read his story throughout the ages and be 
helped by it, and the uncounted multitudes of sinners who would 
hear of his healing and be comforted by it, yet in a single afternoon 
which followed his marvelous experience a good was done which 
eternity itself can only reveal. 

The visitors at his house scattered to their homes, into the 
assemblies, at the gates, into the market places, into halls, palaces, 
and the temple, carrying everywhere the news of this great miracle. 
Soon on every side throughout the city, men and women were heard 
repeatedly asking each other concerning the Healer: ‘‘Where is 
he ? where Is he ? ” 


V. 


THE COURT ROOM. 

A S there is no great loss without some small gain, so there is no 
great gain without some small loss. 

Little Bo had surely received his sight, but the victory was not 
yet complete. On the day he washed in the pool of Siloam the 
supreme court of the nation was in session in a great hall near the 
temple. It was composed of the most distinguished scholars and 
statesmen of the Israelitish nation, and was called the Sanhedrin. 
Haughty priests and pious scholars assembled in that hall several 
times a year to pass upon great questions of State and adjust as far 
as they could the Jewish laws to the Roman military domination. 
These judges were without exception fierce opponents to the Roman 
Government, and the most of them would have gladly sacrificed their 
lives to secure the permanent independence of the Jews. Yet they 
were shrewd and cautious, discountenancing any appearance of insur- 
rection, unless they saw in it some strong hope of success. 

This court had formerly had the power of sentencing a large 
class of criminals to death or to severe punishment, but a few years 
before, the Roman Emperor had by proclamation taken away the 
right of capital punishment. 

These judges were all philosophers, with a lifelong training in 
the examination of the smallest and most hair-splitting questions 

46 



Jesus heard that they had cast him out 

Page 54. 



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THE COURT ROOM. 


47 


connected with the principles and history of religion and the duties 
of the citizen. So self-opinionated were they, that it was a rare 
thing for them ever to reach a unanimous decision upon any ques- 
tion brought before them. If any person had been suddenly healed, 
he was directed by the customs of the times to show himself to the 
priests that they might have an opportunity of examining into the 
case and preventing the people from being duped ; and also to gain 
information for future use. It was a dignified body, before which the 
highest officers bowed in reverence, and was greatly feared by the 
criminal classes and by apostates. 

That august court was also in session the day after little Bo was 
restored to sight. It was informed by an excited officer of the court 
that a poor little beggar had suddenly been restored to sight by the 
miraculous power of that Galilean, — Jesus by name. 

Neither the name nor the person was new to them, as they had 
often in private, and sometimes in public, discussed the claims of 
this man to the Messiahship of the Jewish nation. They all believed 
that his pretentions were either hypocritical or insane, and that any 
movement at that time in favor of establishing a kingdom for the 
Jews would only lead to terrible bloodshed, and consequent slavery, 
because of the weakness of the Jews when compared with the disci- 
plined soldiery of Rome. Some of them were thoroughly convinced 
that Jesus had performed miracles, but they attributed his power 
to the influence he had with Satan. 

When the news came to them of this important miracle, and 
they were told how excitedly the people were behaving throughout 


48 


LITTLE BO. 


the city over this new wonder, the officers of the court were com- 
missioned to bring little Bo to them at once. 

Little Bo may have been a sinner in some respects, and may 
have been weak in others, but this is certain, he was not a cow- 
ard. It would appear that when the officers came to take him to 
the Sanhedrin, he obeyed without reluctance, and when brought into 
the presence of that august body of judges, the highest authority in 
the nation except the military power of Rome, he did not hesitate 
to answer plainly and clearly the cross-questionings of those acute 
lawyers. 

He was at first requested to tell his own story upon the witness 
stand, which he did in a straightforw^ard manner, describing how a 
person, who v/as called Jesus, whom, however, he had never seen, 
came to him as he sat by the wayside, put clay in his eyes, and bade 
him go wash in the pool of Siloam ; and that when he came forth 
from the waters of the pool he discovered that he possessed that 
strange power of sight, of which he had often heard so much and 
realized so little. Little Bo’s father and mother seem to have 
trembled that their son should be called before the court, and re- 
mained at home through the time of his absence filled with anxious 
fears. 

There was a long session of the court that day, and little Bo 
was closely questioned upon every detail connected with the import- 
ant circumstances, and answered over and over again the same 
question in a different form. Several times the astute lawyers 
tried to entrap him in his speech, asking him leading and misleading 


THE COURT ROOM. 


49 


questions, which, however, he was shrewd enough to see and answer 
as they deserved. Notwithstanding the directness of his replies, and 
the apparent honesty of the witness, they would not believe that he 
had been blind until they called his parents. 

His parents were greatly dismayed when the officers of the law 
demanded their presence in the great court, and feared imprison- 
ment, or, what would have been far worse to them, expulsion from 
the synagogue. They came in tremblingly, and answered hesitat- 
ingly. They evaded the questions which were asked, confirming 
the judges in their preconceived opinion that there was something 
dishonest or wicked connected with the transaction. 

Is this your son who you say was born blind ? '' thundered 
the principal lawyer. To this question they gave a hesitating 
assent. 

Then how is it that he doth now see ? ” impudently and sar- 
castically asks the cross-questioner. To this the mother answered : 

This is our son, who we know was born blind ; but by what 
means he doth now see we know not. He is of age, ask him.’' 

The conviction in the breast of the boy that the power which had 
so blessed him by giving him sight would not forsake him in this, 
another extremity, confirmed him in his brave attitude, as he sat at 
the other end of the hall, to which place he had been sent that he 
might not hear the testimony of his parents. His determined face, 
and decidedly upright position, must have led his timid mother to 
refer the matter to him. 

The old folks were poor witnesses, but they adhered to the 

D 


50 


LITTLE BO. 


truth in the main, though amid the confusion of conflicting questions, 
they were often misunderstood. They dared not admit that they 
believed in Jesus, for fear of being turned out of the synagogue. 
Then the officers were directed to again bring forward little Bo, and 
he once more stood in front of the judges’ bench. Again the pre- 
siding judge addressed him, and said with solemn but haughty tone, 
‘‘Give God the praise ; we have decided that this man Jesus is a 
sinner.” Then the boy,^ — as I continue to call him, — with a con- 
fused sense of insult and injury, replied : “ Whether he be a sinner 
or no I know not. That is not a question for a layman to decide. 
But this one thing I do know, that whereas I was blind, I now see.” 

But some of the court were still unsatisfied with his testimony and 
asked him again : “What did he to thee? How opened he thine 
eyes?” The boy began to lose all patience, and he sharply re- 
sponded : “ I have told you already ; wherefore would you hear it 
again? Will ye also be his disciples?” The look of scorn which 
at once covered the countenances of the judges was the emblazonry 
of Satanic hate. Hear them, losing all dignity, hiss down at the 
boy, “You are his disciple ! But we are Moses’ disciples ! We 
know that God spake unto Moses. As for this fellow, we know not 
whence he is.” 

The irony and contempt so bitterly expressed concerning his 
benefactor, aroused the sleeping giant in the boy’s meek life. He 
could not bear to hear one word of reproach uttered against one 
who was evidently so near to God, and who had blessed him with 
his sight. He trembled with indignation and then, bursting forth. 



Dost thoo believe on the Son of God? 

Page 56. 








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THE . COURT ROOM. 


51 


the released force of his wrath carried everything before it. He 
turned and spake aloud in their faces : ‘‘ Why, herein is a marvelous: 
thing; that ye, with all your pretended learning and your bigoted 
sanctity, ye know not whence he is, and yet he hath opened mine 
eyes. I am not a lawyer nor a theologian ; but I know that since 
the world began was it not known that any man opened the eyes 
of one born blind. I have enough common sense to know that God 
heareth not sinners. But if any man be a worshiper of him, him he 
heareth. If this man who has opened mine eyes were not of God 
he could do nothing.’’ 

Both parties are now excited with anger, and the dignified Jew- 
ish judges see that the boy has unconsciously held them up to ridi- 
cule, and that the officers and spectators will not be likely to forget 
their discomfiture when other questions shall arise. With all the 
excitability of the Orientals, they forget everything but their spite 
and injured pride, and begin to hurl low epithets at the boy, losing 
all dignity, all sense of justice, delicacy, and honor. They accuse 
him of being a shame to his mother and a disgrace to his family. 
They taunted him of having been cursed of God, with being a blind 
beggar, and hurled at him most cowardly and disgraceful taunts, 
saying: “Thou wast altogether born in sins, and dost thou 
teach us ? ” 

The boy tries to talk, but is silenced by the angry judges. In the 
confusion they angrily command the officers to seize him, and as he is 
charged with no crime which would give them a standing before the 
Roman military tribunal should they sentence him to any punish- 


52 


LITTLE BO. 


ment, they ordered the officers to cast him headlong out into the 
street. And they drove him out. Then with one acclaim they de- 
cided upon his expulsion from the synagogue. 

Poor Bo ! Covered with dust, his clothing torn with his rough 
handling, was raised up by his father and mother and led back with 
many pauses and halting footsteps to his humble home. There with 
the crowd shut out, they sat together through the long hours of the 
night, perhaps talking of the terrible occurrences ; while little Bo 
himself wished that he had remained blind. Tears flowed freely, 
and the sighs were deep, as mother and father and son, with per- 
haps brother and sister, meditated upon the renewed disgrace which 
had come to their family in his expulsion from the synagogue. 

They did not know until after the sentence had been passed, 
that the judges in the Sanhedrin had agreed already that if any man 
should say that Jesus was the Christ he should certainly be expelled. 

He had broken their command unconsciously, and had declared 
before them his belief that whoever Jesus might be, “ he certainly 
was a prophet ; and now the greatest shame that could come to a 
Jewish family had come in the form of this angr}^ but awful sen- 
tence. 

To be expelled from the church ; to be shut out from society ; 
to be shunned as if he were a servant of Satan, with no hope of 
social promotion in this life, and with the added claim on the part 
of the judges that they could shut him out of happiness in the life 
to come. 

Yet he had spoken the truth, and had spoken bravely, and why 


THE COURT ROOM. 


53 


in a time like that, such disgrace should be allowed by the provi- 
dence of God, must have been a greater wonder to the mother than 
the fact that she had a son at all who was born blind. 

Ah, the battle is not over when the soul confesses the Christ 
who hath opened its eyes. “We cannot go to heaven on flowery 
beds of easeA God’s ways are not our ways, and yet God’s ways 
are always kind. 



VI. 


TRIUMPH. 

J ESUS heard that they had cast him out. Of course, he did. Who 
acted as the messenger we do not know. Whether it was Bo’s 
elder sister or his little brother, or some acquaintance, or 
some angel of God commissioned to care for such as shall be 
heirs of salvation, we cannot say ; yet we often wish that we did 
know who it was that was mutually acquainted with the poor blind 
beggar and with Jesus the Christ. 

Somehow, Jesus is always certain to hear when any person is 
unjustly pressed, or when one of his beloved disciples is in grief. 
It does not take long for the Divine One now to hear from any 
portion of his great universe, and quicker than thought he answers 
to the cry of any one of his unduly laden creatures. 

Wherever Jesus was at the time the messenger came and told 
him that little Bo was in disgrace because of the bigoted Pharisees, 
he turned his footsteps quickly toward that humble door. He ap- 
proached that sad home. Behold, he stands at the door and 
knocks ! Within there are sounds of crying mingled with prayer, 
and without, a crowd of people still hanging about the residence. 
Jesus tenderly knocks. But the door opens not. They hear the 

soft tapping at the entrance, but it may be the attempt of some 
54 



For judgment I am come into this world 

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TRIUMPH. 


55 


intrusive stranger to come in upon their sorrow, or it may be the 
shaking of the wind. And overwhelmed by grief, it does not occur 
to them that either the Lord, or the Son of God, would be their 
friend. 

Again he raps with more decisive blows. For a moment the 
sighing within ceases and the prayers are hushed, as the inmates 
hesitate whether to open the door or to remain secluded. 

Once again he knocks, with a heavy rap that makes the door 
tremble, and with the decision of one having authority. 

They can resist no longer. The father lifts the latch of the door 
suspiciously, and quietly opens it but a little way. As he peers 
forth into the street his eyes rest upon the most benign countenance 
that man ever wore. It can be no officer of the law ! it can be no 
curious Pharisee ! it can be no persecutor ! Those benevolent eyes 
could belong only to a man compassionate — a friend of the suffering 
poor. 

The door opens wider. The stranger at the threshold smiles. 
Wide open swings the door. “ Enter, stranger, you are welcome.” 

With a step clearly indicating that he fully knows why he is 
there, and has some express mission to perform, and with a smiling 
greeting, as though he was an old friend, Jesus enters into the 
shadowy apartment and places his strong though beautiful hand 
upon the head of poor Bo. 

Bo had ceased to cry aloud, and was there in silence, almost 
angry that any person should assume to interrupt him in the pain 
of his deep disgrace. 


56 


LITTLE BO. 


The mother first greets the Divine One, then speaks to her son 
and bids him welcome the stranger. Then with a feeling of excited 
curiosity he could scarce restrain, he almost forgot himself in the 
strangeness of the interview. He gazed at his visitor, not yet fully 
able to trust his eyesight, in a questioning way, which Jesus fully 
understood. 

The soft tones of that voice now speak for the first time within 
that home, and say to him : “ Dost thou believe on the Son of God ? ” 
The question, the manner, the indescribable, silent influence of 
the visitor, all had their effect upon little Bo. He quickly, but rev- 
erently responded ; ‘ ‘ Who is he. Lord ? that I might believe on 
him, for I have never seen him ? I have had my sight but a short 
time, and I know not who the Son of God may be ? ” 

“ But the Son of God, of whom I spake, is the person who made 
clay and anointed your eyes and told you to wash in the pool of 
Siloam. Dost thou believe on him ? ” 

“ Where is he, rabbi, that I may see him and know him ? ” 

The Jesus then said unto him : “Thou hast not only seen him, 
but it is he that talketh with thee now.” 

The very voice carried the conviction of its truth with it to the 
deepest recesses of the boy’s soul. He felt what he could not ex- 
plain, that he was in the presence of one divine. His gratitude for 
having received his sight, and his increased sense of obligation, now 
that his great friend had sought him out so diligently in this the hour 
of his deeper disgrace, all combined to overwhelm him with a con- 
fusion of reverence, grief, curiosity, and worship that led him to fall 


TRIUMPH. 


57 


at once to the floor, and prostrate himself before the stranger, reit- 
erating in the humblest and most emphatic manner his belief that 
Jesus Christ was the Son of God. He worshiped him. 

“Art thou he that healed my son ? Art thou the Galilean prophet 
of whom we have so many times heard ? ” asks the bewildered 
mother. Then she too falls down to worship him. 

“Art thou he that should come, of whom John the Baptist did 
speak, and of whom Isaiah did write ? ” asks the still hesitating 
father. One look from those eyes, one silent nod from that head, 
and the father too is convinced. Kneeling upon the floor, he places 
his head at Jesus’ feet, clasping the feet, as weepingly he exclaims, 
“ Our friend and our Lord.” 

As when the morning sun lights up the hills and makes the 
husbandman forget the gloomy dreams of the night, and enter sing- 
ing into his fields, so the coming of that wondrous Helper into this 
poor home had dispersed every sense of sorrow and every cry of 
disgrace. Their tears did not cease, but they became tears of bliss. 
Their cries were not altogether hushed, but now there were ex- 
clamations of almost painful joy. Jesus had found his sheep. The 
Shepherd was carrying them in his arms. 

The news that Jesus had visited that humble spot, and that he 
had braved the denunciations of the Sanhedrin, to associate with 
one who had just been cast out of the synagogue, spread quickly 
through the streets. The crowd increased about the door, and the 
Pharisees who were following him about to catch him, in some form 
or other to convict him of crime, that they might crucify him, soon 


68 


LITTLE BO. 


rapped at the door and demanded admission. The door was opened, 
and into that room flocked those offlcials in their gay attire, followed 
by many a curious scribe, while Levite and temple guards pressed 
about the door. 

Jesus had lifted up the worshiper, and placed his arm about 
the form of little Bo. He stands between him and his enemies, and 
demands of them why they come. 

They asked in return the question : “ Why art thou here, pre- 
suming to be a friend of one whom the great council of the nation 
has declared to be a heretic ? He has been before the judges. 
Judgment has been passed upon him. Why art thou here, to 
comfort, to counsel, or to strengthen him ? ” 

We can see the Divine One ask, with lips compressed, cheeks 
flushed, and eyes flashing with indignation, yet fully under control, 
and we can hear his clear defense of little Bo, and vindication of his 
own position. “For judgment also am I come into the world, that 
they which see not may see, and that they which see might be made 
blind. I am come into the world to be a friend of the poor, and to 
give light to those that sit in darkness. I have come to open the 
eyes of the blind. I have come to convict of their sins those who, 
having physical sight, are nevertheless mentally and spiritually 
blind.” 

As he turns his flashing eyes upon the proud Pharisees and 
Levites, and emphasizes with peculiar tones, “ those who are 
mentally and spiritually blind,” we can see the wagging of their in- 
dignant heads, we can hear the half-surprised expression of indigna- 


« 


*5 

Are we blind also? 

Page 59, 



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TRIUMPH. 


59 


tlon, and at last the general cry going up from them all as they hurl 
back to him his insinuations : “Are we blind also? We, who are 
Moses' disciples ; we, who belong to the stock of Israel ; we, whom 
■God has led through the wilderness and preserved unto the present 
time, and to whom he especially promises a divine Messiah ; do you 
dare insinuate that we do not see ? " 

Then with a voice so piercing that the crowd down the narrow 
alley and away to the street can hear his denunciation, and feel a 
shivering sense of the wrath divine, he declares to them : “ If ye 
were blind, as this little Bo was blind, ye would not be answerable 
for many sins which are now clearly laid to your charge. Ye say, 
‘we see,' therefore your sin remaineth. Ye say that ye know the 
right way, that ye understand the path of righteousness, that the 
Lord has given you superior light. Ye say that ye have all authority. 
Ye say that ye have all wisdom, and therefore condemn yourselves, 
for the light is come into the world, and this is your condemnation, 
that ye love darkness rather than light. Ye have eyes, and ye do 
not use them ; ye have intelligence, and ye misapply it ; ye have 
every opportunity to secure forgiveness for your sins, and ye will 
not use it ; ye have special privileges of caring for the poor and be- 
friending the friendless, and ye use your position, time, and talents 
to oppose the afflicted, to add burdens to those who are heavy laden, 
to darken the eyes of those who otherwise would see. Ye enter 
not in yourself, and those who are entering ye hinder. Ye say ye 
now see. Therefore, your sin remaineth." 


60 


LITTLE BO. 


It was long ago that little Bo sat at the corner begging in his 
blindness ; yes, long, long ago, it seOms to us. 

The walls that then surrounded the holy city have crumbled 
and been more than once rebuilt. The temple has long since dis- 
appeared. Even Olivet is changed by the action of the elements 
and the effects of time. Siloam itself is but a broken ruin in the 
valley. The fountains which filled it have been often turned another 
way by some besieging army. The heated contests of destructive 
battles have again and again filled the valley and streets and 
squares with rubbish, until now, after the centuries gone, all that 
pertains to that time seems to be buried. A poor, beggarly sight, 
Jerusalem left desolate indeed, stands as a broken monument of the 
greatness that once was, and of the opportunities once wasted. But 
little Bo lives. He, being dead, yet speaketh. He lives on earth 
through the story of his suffering and triumph, and millions and 
millions have thanked the Lord for the record he left of himself, and 
for the lessons which his touching story inculcates. 

It was long ago. Even the genealogy of his family is lost. Even 
the Jewish nation has been scattered over the earth. It was long, 
long ago. And yet to him who now feels as Jesus feels, and who 
inherits the promise that when he leaves this world he shall be like 
Jesus, one day is as a thousand years. But two days ago little Bo 
was a poor, blind beggar, now a bright-winged messenger of God, 
now dwelling in heavenly mansions in a light that can never be 
dimmed, with an eyesight that can see all the farther borders of the 
mighty universe, and endowed with eternal life. He continually 



Therefore your six remaiftetii 

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TRIUMPH. 


61 


praises God now that he permitted him to be born blind and allowed 
him to suffer on the earth as he did suffer. For he clearly under- 
stands now that he was of far more use as a blind beggar, in his 
poverty and wretchedness, than have been many potentates of the 
earth, with uncounted treasures at their command, with mighty 
armies obeying their orders, and with wide-spreading realms ren- 
dering them almost worshipful obedience. “Jesus doeth all things 
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